


Thin Walls Make Good Neighbors

by WritingEmi



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Anal Sex, Angst, Fluff, Gift Giving, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-09-22 14:24:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9611336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingEmi/pseuds/WritingEmi
Summary: Iron Bull, new to Ferelden, moves into the apartment next to Dorian's. And Dorian, who arrived in Ferelden just two years ago, doesn't sympathize at all with his new neighbor and his struggles, not in the slightest bit.Or, Dorian secretly goes out of his way to make Iron Bull's life a little easier.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is a little fun fluff piece I wrote while writing my much darker fic, To Come Undone.

It was the autumn of Dorian’s second year in Ferelden when the largest Qunari Dorian ever saw moved into the empty apartment next to his own. Not only was the Qunari tall and muscular, he had wide horns, was missing a couple fingers and an eye, and had various scars on his face and chest. He might have looked intimidating if he didn't smile so much.

At first his new neighbor’s presence made Dorian uneasy. It was bad enough being the only mage in a building full of Fereldans, not to mention from Tevinter as well, and then he was suddenly sharing a wall with a Qunari, who weren’t known for their liberal views of mages or kindness towards Tevinter citizens. Even Dorian’s landlord, a gruff man named Blackwall, who didn’t seem to care for Dorian much, asked Dorian if he was ok with a Qunari living close by. For all of Blackwall’s faults, Dorian respected that the man did not put up with bullies.

However, his neighbor, Iron Bull as he introduced himself, was nothing but polite towards Dorian and always said hello or stopped to make small talk when they passed each other in the hallway.

When it became apparent that his new neighbor wasn’t going to spew racist remarks at Dorian or harass him for being a mage, he found that he was able to appreciate Iron Bull, aesthetically at least. Dorian always had a weakness for strong looking men and he was far too fascinated by the scars on Bull’s chest when his neighbor chose not to wear a shirt. Iron Bull was a nice, fleeting fantasy for Dorian.

There was also a sort comfort to having a neighbor again. Dorian’s apartment was at the end of the hall and the only unit next to his sat vacant for over half a year. His apartment was awash with silence, making his home feel hollow despite the fact that Dorian found a much needed respite from his previous and rather annoying neighbor. The paper thin wall between their living rooms and bedrooms meant that Dorian could hear his new neighbor like he did with the last, but he didn’t find Bull half as bothersome. 

The one bedroom apartment was in a well maintained older building, but it was small, meaning that Dorian could hear his neighbor in almost every room. The ambient noise of Iron Bull talking on the phone, watching TV, and general puttering around filled the void of silence in Dorian’s own home. It wasn’t terrible, Dorian admitted to himself, and it almost seemed like he had a roommate that he didn’t hate.

But it did take a couple of weeks for Dorian to get used to the loud snoring on the other side of the wall all night. Dorian’s lack of sleep was visible on his face, the circles under his eyes were too dark for makeup to hide, and there was a clear look of guilt on Iron Bull’s face when they passed each other in the hall one morning, Iron Bull returning from the gym and Dorian on his way to meet a friend for breakfast. But Dorian got used to even that and soon it was hard imagining falling asleep without the muffled snores and deep breathing on the other side.

In that first month since Iron Bull moved in, Dorian learned quite a bit about his neighbor without saying more than a few words to him each day. From the small talk in the hallway, Dorian found out that Bull was new to the country and the city of Skyhold and worked for a construction crew in town. But from the sound that carried through the wall, Dorian learned a lot more.

Bull didn’t have company over, but he received a lot of phone calls from what sounded like a variety of friends with questionable nicknames. He watched comedy and action movies on the weekends, with the occasional romantic comedy. Every morning he woke up ridiculously early without an alarm clock and left to go to the gym. Saturday nights, without fail, he ordered delivery for dinner. And on Sundays he baked, the scent of cookies and bread often filled the hallway as Dorian left to go run errands.

It did make Dorian feel like a stalker despite never having to leave his home and it made him think about what Bull knew about him. Probably that Dorian watched all kinds of shows and movies, spent long stretches of time in silence to read, brought home male company late at night, and that only one person ever called him and that Dorian answered the phone with far too much enthusiasm.

Despite what Dorian learned from the thinness of the wall between them, he didn’t think too much about his neighbor. Until one Saturday afternoon he heard an obnoxious ring tone, which could only mean that one of Bull’s friends was calling him.

“Krem!” Bull’s voice boomed clearly through the wall, almost as if he were sitting in Dorian’s living room.

Dorian rolled his eyes and closed his book, knowing that he wasn’t going to be able to concentrate on reading until Bull finished his phone call and was too lazy to get up from the couch to get his headphones to listen to some music.

“Thanks for the birthday present, it’s great! … Uh, huh, yeah ... I know, I know, I’m getting old.”

He didn’t know it was Iron Bull’s birthday and idly wondered how old the Qunari was.

“Oh, nothing too special, I’m just at home … No, no, some people from work are taking me to dinner tonight … Yeah, it’s really nice of them.”

Chuckling to himself, Dorian remembered saying the exact same thing to Felix during the first birthday he spent in Ferelden. Of course it wasn’t true, there was no one to take Dorian to dinner and he spent his birthday getting drunk and receiving a hand job from someone in the dark corner of a club. He hoped that Bull’s coworkers really were taking him out to dinner.

Dorian got his answer a couple hours later when he heard Bull make his weekly phone call for delivery. This week it was from a little hole in the wall place that served authentic Seheron food.

In the middle of deciding what to make or order for his own dinner, Dorian considered inviting Iron Bull over. Bull already ordered his dinner, but Dorian could run out and buy a cupcake, then ask if Bull wanted to watch a movie. The gesture would be too obvious though and Iron Bull would know that Dorian overheard his conversation. It was one thing to know that someone could hear you, but it was another when that someone crosses the unspoken line and starts butting into your life.

Deciding not to be nosy and to leave Iron Bull alone, Dorian picked up his laptop and was soon looking at the website for the late night cookie shop near the college campus where Dorian worked. It catered to the student population and delivered cookies all night to students with the munchies. Before he knew it, Dorian was ordering a cookie cake to Iron Bull’s unit to be delivered as soon as possible with specific instructions to leave his own name out of it.

Slamming his laptop shut, Dorian didn’t know what got into him. Not wanting to wait around for the cookie cake to be delivered and possibly face questions from Iron Bull about it, Dorian grabbed his coat, wallet, and keys, and headed out the door. He was craving Antivan food and some company.

\---

That night Dorian brought home a rather handsome elf named Loranil. They met at a quiet bar with low lighting and an excellent pianist playing that evening, where Dorian noticed that Loranil’s eyes were a stunning shade of green and that he had a solid, lithe body.

Dorian supposed that he should feel bad about the noise he was making and that he was probably keeping his neighbor awake. But he spent too much time in Tevinter biting his lip to keep quiet, staying silent to reduce the risk of discovery, and now he thought of being noisy as a freedom he earned. And Loranil was too lovely to resist.

Loranil’s manners in bed were a little less lovely though. The thrusts of his latex covered cock into Dorian’s mouth were on the side of too rough, not enough to make Dorian tap out, but just enough to make him choke a bit. And Loranil's own blow job skills were wanting when he swallowed down Dorian's length. The elf was obviously trying to get Dorian off as fast as he could and Dorian, not one to think of sex should be a chore for anyone, withdrew from Loranil’s mouth and the elf looked relieved as he finished Dorian off with his hand.

At least the man was good enough to leave without Dorian having to ask him to go. 

Dorian laid in bed afterwards and let out a loud sigh over his mediocre encounter. Next door, Iron Bull was snoring away and Dorian was glad that he didn't wake up his neighbor with sex that was hardly worth Dorian being awake for. With that snarky thought in mind, Dorian drifted off to Bull’s snores.

\---

“Sparkler!”

Dorian smiled when Varric spotted him at his favorite cafe in downtown Skyhold, a quiet place with strong coffee and fresh sweet baked goods that Fereldans were known for. The dwarf invited himself to have breakfast with the mage, taking the seat across from Dorian. Most of the time that would annoy Dorian, he usually spent his Saturday mornings in peace, treating himself to a cup of coffee, scone, and a good book. But Varric was an easy going type of guy with the best stories and Dorian always enjoyed hanging out with him.

“Good morning, Varric,” Dorian greeted the dwarf.

“Morning, Sparkler, hope I’m not intruding.” Though Varric didn’t sound sorry at all as he tucked into his cheese danish and cup of coffee.

“Not at all,” Dorian put down his book with a smirk, “though I do expect to hear some scandalous gossip as payment for that seat.”

Varric laughed and didn’t disappoint, filling Dorian in on a story about the deputy mayor being caught with an illegal shipment of lyrium. Dorian read about it online, but Varric had details that the local news networks left out. As an author and business owner, Varric was a well-connected man and knew many important people in the city of Skyhold. The only reason Dorian knew someone like Varric was because the dwarf was friends with the research fellow that Dorian worked for at Skyhold Mage Circle College and Varric, for whatever reason, found Dorian interesting.

“So, know anyone looking for a job?” Varric asked after he finished his story.

Lifting an eyebrow, Dorian asked, “A job?”

“I’m looking for an assistant, someone to help me arrange my appointments, author appearances, that kind of stuff. It’s mostly sitting around at my office, bitching with Cadash, and keeping Cassandra off my back.”

“What happened to Cole?”

“He’s still working for me, just in a different capacity. I have him working for that youth center that Hawke setup.”

“Ah, that does sound more like Cole than booking your appointments. I don’t have anyone in mind, but if I come across anyone right for the job, I’ll send them your way.”

“Thanks!” Varric reached down into his messenger bag and took out a brightly colored flyer. “Here, this has a description of the job and who to contact.”

Dorian took the flyer and tucked it into his book, where he promptly forgot about it. He was suddenly reminded of the flyer the following Tuesday, after Dorian came down with a cold and stayed home from work. It seemed that Bull also stayed home from work that day, though Dorian wasn’t surprised. The past week Dorian noticed that Iron Bull was limping up the stairs of their building as there was no elevator and his uneven steps echoed through the wall. 

He was tempted to ask Bull what was wrong, but Dorian was nervous about being pulled into a conversation with the man ever since he sent the cookie cake for Bull’s birthday the previous week. The chances of it coming up were slim, but he still wanted to avoid it, and it was pretty clear what was bothering Bull, work on a construction site wasn't kind on one’s joints. Everyday Bull came home sweaty, dirty, and exhausted, and while he carried the look well, the limp was evidence that it was wearing on him.

There was a pathetic orchestra between the two apartments, Iron Bull with his pained grunts and Dorian with his sniffles and coughs. It was only interrupted by the shrill of Bull’s phone ringing.

“Hey Stitches,” Iron Bull’s voice was strained. “Yeah, I’m fine … You didn’t have to call, you could’ve just texted me back … I should’ve known you wouldn’t give up a chance to nag me.”

Dorian could relate, Felix always called Dorian if there was an opportunity to lecture him.

“Yeah, it’s my knee again, hurts like hell … I know, I’m trying to find another job … Not a whole lot of people want to hire a Qunari for a desk job … Look, this was the only job Josephine could find for me and I’m not going to tell her I can’t even do it.”

The name Josephine caught Dorian’s attention. His own immigration caseworker was named Josephine Montilyet, who worked for Ferelden’s immigration department in Skyhold. She worked Dorian’s case, a complicated one involving political asylum, which she handled with kindness and expertise, getting him a job at the Mage Circle College and the apartment he was currently living in. If Bull was Tal-Vashoth, then he might also be in Ferelden under asylum and under Josephine’s polite, yet stern, care.

Then Dorian recalled the flyer Varric gave him, still tucked neatly in his book and marking the page he left off at. An assistant for Varric wouldn’t be a physically taxing job, though he didn’t know anything about Iron Bull’s work ethic and wasn’t sure if he could recommend Bull to Varric in good conscience.

But Dorian knew what it was like to despise your job. He started out with shelving books at the college’s library, the only job Josephine could get him anywhere near his field. He was grateful to Josephine for her efforts to get him on his feet and as he searched for a job on his own, he became doubly grateful to her as it was clear that no one wanted to hire a Tevinter mage.

Dorian became increasingly angry at the waste of his education when no one would even interview him, until he got to know Dagna, a research fellow in the Arcane Studies department. Once she found out that Dorian was working on a dissertation in theoretical time magic before he fled Tevinter, Dagna snatched him up as her research assistant. She understood Dorian’s situation, she as a dwarf interested in magic was often turned down by various institutions despite her overwhelming qualifications.

Dorian could only imagine what it was like for Iron Bull to have a job that put him in real pain.

His mind was finally made up the next day. Dorian just finished paying for his delivery of a spicy Tevinter style soup when Iron Bull came limping down the hallway, returning home from work. His shirt was off, revealing his broad chest, and his face was streaked with dust, an image that Dorian appreciated even while running a fever. Bull paused at the door and his single eye took in the sight of Dorian with his messy hair, glassy eyes behind thick glasses, red nose, and flannel pajamas, and smiled ruefully. Dorian was sure that he should feel mortified that Bull saw him in such a state, but he didn’t have the energy to care.

“We’re both feeling like shit, huh?” Bull observed teasingly.

“It would appear that misery loves company.” Dorian’s accompanying sneeze only emphasized his poor condition.

“Need anything, big guy? I can run to the store for cold medicine or soup or anything else you might need.” There was real concern in Bull’s voice.

It was quite clear that Iron Bull wasn’t in any shape to go anywhere. His limp was worse than the day before and the tight lines around his eye and mouth were clearly from pain, but Bull seemed quite serious about his offer. 

“Thank you for the offer, but I’m well stocked on drugs and food.”

“Ok, let me know if that changes. You can just yell what you need through the wall,” Bull gave him a lopsided grin before going into his apartment.

Dorian retreated into his own apartment and immediately searched for his book with the flyer Varric gave him. He found it and waited until the next day after Iron Bull left for work to shove the colorful piece of paper under Bull’s door.

\---

A couple of weeks later, Dorian finally felt like himself. He was no longer coughing up phlegm, he could breathe comfortably through his nose, and he no longer looked like he was half dead. Tired of being cooped up at home, Dorian went out on the first Friday night that he felt well enough to show his face. He took care in styling his hair, putting on his makeup, and chose his tightest pair of black jeans and a dark red button up shirt that went well with his coloring. 

He splurged on going out to an expensive nightclub, where he found a beautifully muscled Orlesian blond named Michel to take home. Michel kissed like he was in a fight, dueling Dorian for control and soon the mage submitted much to Michel's delight. He prepped Dorian just enough not to hurt him, then sank into in the mage, making Dorian gasp at the delicious stretch of his muscles as Michel set a firm and steady pace, hitting Dorian’s prostate with each thrust. Dorian was on his hands and knees, but he needed both arms to balance as Michel leaned too heavily on his back, leaving his own cock untouched.

A loud whine tore from Dorian’s throat when Michel finally grabbed his erection, making the man chuckle softly and mutter something in Orlesian in the shell of Dorian’s ear, sending shivers through him. It didn’t take long for Dorian to come and Michel pulled Dorian’s hair, jerking his head back to smother Dorian’s moans with his mouth. His partner finally shuddered through his orgasm and pulled out of Dorian, pausing long enough to clean up before practically passing out in Dorian’s bed. 

Michel had the grace to leave early in the morning, which Dorian pretended to sleep through. The sex was good, though nothing special, and Dorian wouldn’t have given the Michel second thought, except he was surprisingly brought up when Dorian ran into Bull on his way out.

Dorian was leaving his apartment right as Iron Bull was returning from the gym, his limp considerably better. 

“Hey, Dorian, I ran into your boyfriend this morning, he said he’d give you a call later. Seemed like a nice guy.”

Dorian furrowed his brow and laughed when he realized that Bull was talking about Michel, who definitely did not have Dorian’s phone number. Men like Michel slept with Dorian for the novelty of it, not because they wanted to start a relationship.

“He is less of a boyfriend and more of a one-time acquaintance.”

Bull grinned widely, his eye lingering on the exposed flesh of Dorian’s throat. There was no judgement in his tone as he replied, “I understand completely.”

\---

The drawing on the door wasn’t a shock, but it was frustrating all the same. At least it was in crayon and would wash off cleanly. Dorian stared at Iron Bull’s door and knew that it was those brats, a middle school aged brother and sister, on the second floor that wrote the word _OXMAN_ with a crude drawing of a cow. 

They did a similar thing to Dorian when he first moved in and they found out that Dorian was a Tevinter mage. All sorts of words for blood mage and other vulgar drawings were scrawled on his door, greeting him as he came home from work. He remembered the hot anger that spiked in him and the humiliation that there was nothing he could do about it. In Tevinter, Dorian came from an important family and held clout in society, in Ferelden, he was no one.

Dorian looked at his watch. Ever since Bull started his new job as Varric's assistant, he usually returned from work an hour after Dorian did, which meant there was time to do something about it. Going inside his apartment, Dorian threw his work bag on his couch, shucked off his long coat, rolled up his sleeves, and opened up the cabinet under his kitchen sink to find a bucket and sponge. He filled the bucket with soap and hot water and headed back into the hallway, quickly scrubbing away the word and drawing.

When Iron Bull came home, Dorian stood by his door inside his apartment, held his breath as he listened and hoped that he did a thorough enough job of cleaning off the drawing. There was only a slight pause as Bull slid the key in, but he finally went inside without comment.

The next day the drawing was done in marker.

Under his kitchen sink, there was a small can of paint that matched off white color of the door. Because of the frequency in which his door was vandalized, Blackwall gave Dorian a can of paint and a paintbrush.

“In case I’m not around. You shouldn't be forced to look at that any longer than necessary because I've stepped out,” Blackwall explained a year ago. There was an unimaginative drawing of a demon bursting out of a mage's chest, mimicking an old movie, on Dorian's door. “I’m sorry, Dorian, you really don’t deserve this.”

At the time, Dorian nearly cried at the sympathetic expression Blackwall gave him. But years of training his facial expressions in Tevinter high society saved him.

Repainting took longer than the simple washing did and he was sure the paint was still sticky when Bull came home. There was a longer pause after Iron Bull slid the key into the lock, but he finally went inside without a fuss.

The next day the drawing reappeared and Dorian gritted his teeth as he frantically covered it up.

The weekend brought respite from the vandals, probably because there was too much chance of being caught while people were home. On Sunday Dorian caught Bull looking at the door carefully, his finger tracing over where the old paint ended and the new began. Bull gave Dorian an appraising look, causing Dorian to all but run down the stairs and call out a hasty goodbye. 

The kids started back up on Monday and Dorian lost count of how many coats of paint he put on Bull’s door after work that week.

“Don’t you got a landlord to do that? Anyone with the word ‘lord’ in their title should move their butt every once in a while,” Dorian’s friend, Sera, asked on Wednesday night as she and Dorian grabbed drinks at her favorite dive bar. She spotted the paint on Dorian’s hands right away and teased him for doing real work, leading Dorian to explain why he was painting.

“Blackwall probably wouldn’t get to it before Bull got home.” Dorian idly picked at the off white paint struck around his fingernail.

“Ah,” Sera leaned back in her seat and gave Dorian a smirk. “Always playing the fancy britches, but you’re just a big marshmallow heart.”

Dorian quickly finished his drink and let the glass hit the table with a loud clink. “Who’s up for shots?”

“That kinda night, huh?” Sera grinned widely. “Lemme text Widdle and let her know you’re going to be sloshed at work tomorrow.”

The next morning, Bull asked Dorian, “Is Blackwall on a painting rampage?” They were both heading out for the day and Bull was somehow pulling off wearing a pink button up shirt and a purple tie covered in little white dragons. “The hall smells like paint all the time.”

Dorian only shrugged, his head was hurting from the night before and talking seemed ill advised.

Finally the brats on the second floor stopped their assault on Iron Bull’s door, but they shifted their focus. The word _MALEFICAR_ greeted Dorian when he came home and he ran out of paint before he could even cover up the first letter. He stormed back into his apartment and he slumped against the wall, sliding down till he hit the floor and buried his face in his hands. 

Normally he wouldn't let such a thing bother him so much, but all week he was on edge trying to protect Bull from the vandalism that he felt a terrible shock when it happened to him. Even though Dorian's apartment was at the end of the hall, their other neighbors must have seen it, but no one called it in to Blackwall or did anything about it.

He was still there on the floor an hour later when Bull knocked on his door.

"Dorian? Dorian, are you ok?"

Bull kept knocking until Dorian finally got up and opened the door. Hesitating for only a second, Bull grabbed Dorian and pulled him into a hug, rubbing his back as Dorian hid his face against Bull’s chest and his stupid tie with cartoon dragons on it. The tie, and the hug, was more comforting than Dorian liked to admit.

\---

That weekend Dorian met a nice young man named Delrin Barris at an Antivan nightclub, who possessed a hearty Fereldan look with broad shoulders, powerful limbs that went on forever, and dark skin. He took Delrin home, despite the fact that he was dubious of Delrin’s experience with men, but was happily surprised. Under that Chantry boy grin and blush was a man who knew what he was doing.

The other man was a considerate lover, he sucked Dorian off with skill while sinking two slicked fingers into Dorian’s hole and hit his prostate with precession. Then Delrin lazily fucked into him, burying his face into Dorian's neck as Dorian lay boneless under him. While Dorian didn’t get aroused again, he enjoyed the steady pressure on his prostate and not having to worry about his own release.

As Delrin got closer to his orgasm, his thrusts became harder, more erratic, leaving Dorian teetering on the edge of pleasure and pain until his partner finally came. 

"Are you ok?" Delrin asked as he cleaned himself off. "I know I got a little rough at the end."

Dorian gave him an easy smile. "I'm fine. It was just right."

Delrin was visibly relieved and left without prompting. Dorian stared up at the ceiling of his room, listening to Bull’s deep breathing on the other side of the wall and thinking that he wouldn't mind dating someone like Delrin. The other man was kind, smiled without reserve when they danced, and his strong arms felt heavenly when they were wrapped around Dorian’s waist.

But Delrin didn’t want to kiss, which Dorian thought was very Tevinter of him.

\---

“What are you doing for Satinalia?” Dagna asked during their lunch break. 

Dorian usually took lunch with Dagna in her office in refuge from the rest of their colleagues. Many of the professors and research fellows kept a professional distance from their assistants, but Dagna was cut from a better cloth than her colleagues and embraced Dorian as a friend. The culture of the department was rather harsh, set by the impossibly high expectations of the department head, Madame Vivienne de Fer. It also didn’t help that certain professors, notably a snooty one named Solas Fen'Harel, were often distant and aloof.

Dagna was a bright spot amongst them all. Her warm and bubbly exterior hid her sharp intellect and she was awarded more grants and commendations than anyone else in the department. And Madame de Fer possessed good sense under her icy exterior and highly valued Dagna’s work and was kind to the dwarf, even if she did look at Dorian like he was an unwanted pest. At least she recognized Dorian's superior fashion sense.

“Felix is taking me to some ski lodge in the Frostbacks,” Dorian answered. “What about you and Sera?”

“We’re staying here like usual and relaxing a bit. But skiing! That’s so nice of Felix to take you, he's such a sweetie! Have you ever been skiing before?”

Dorian snorted. “No, but if Felix wanted to be nice, he’d take me to a beach.”

Despite his words, Dorian was looking forward to spending time with his best friend. Felix visited when he could since Dorian unable to return to Tevinter, but it was never enough for either of them. Dorian would suffer any amount of cold to be with Felix.

“You’ll love it!” Dagna said brightly. “Even if you end up hating skiing, you can curl up in the lodge by the fire with a book and a cup of cocoa.”

Dagna’s enthusiasm was admittedly infectious and Dorian smiled at the thought of mocking the fools fumbling in the snow from a nice spot by a roaring fireplace.

That afternoon, Dorian ran into Iron Bull in the lobby of their building, both of them grabbing their mail. He should have been blinded by the white tie with red dragons printed on it that Bull wore with his purple shirt, but oddly it made Dorian smile. Instead of scolding Bull for his choice in ties, Dorian asked Bull about his holiday plans.

“A friend is coming over to visit,” Bull answered after Dorian confirmed that he would be away.

Dorian suddenly felt bad about asking, knowing that Bull’s plans may very well be fake. During his first year in Ferelden, Dorian lied quite often about pretend plans to avoid pity. A few days later, Dorian could hear Iron Bull on the phone with his friend and found out the answer to his unasked question.

“It’s ok, Krem, don’t worry. If you can’t get time off of work, then there’s nothing you can do about it … No, I’m not letting you buy me a plane ticket, besides I wouldn’t be able to stay long … Varric’s real good to me, I don’t want to take advantage by springing time off on him last minute … Hey, you’ll come during First Day, that’s not too long from now …”

A frown marred Dorian's face at the news. The first holiday alone always stung the worst. Felix had his own familial obligations and wasn’t able to visit Dorian during his first Wintersend in Ferelden and it was before Dorian made any real friends. To make things worse, his mother called and Dorian accidently answered the phone, sending him into a spiral that ended up with Dorian spending the holiday drinking heavily and weeping over the shambles his life was in.

He sympathized with Bull. Spending the holidays alone was the salt in the ever bleeding wound of homesickness.

At the end of the week, Dorian went out like he often did, but he didn’t visit his usual haunts. He ended up going to the sports bar that Varric owned in town, a place where the dwarf could usually be found on a Friday night. Dorian went there on the occasion when he was looking for the company of friends instead of someone to sleep with, Sera and Dagna enjoyed the place, and there were usually plenty of people he knew hanging out there. 

Dorian acted pleasantly surprised when he spotted Varric in the middle of a drink and scribbling on the papers spread out in front him.

“Sparkler, have a drink on me!” Varric waved Dorian over to the booth where he was sitting. “I owe you for sending Tiny my way.”

Dorian slid into the booth and tilted his head. “Tiny?”

“Iron Bull,” Varric clarified. 

“Ah. Fitting.”

“I saw that he lives in the same building as you from his paperwork, I figured you must’ve said something to him.”

“Something like that,” Dorian confirmed, glad that he didn’t have to explain how he knew Bull. After a few drinks and catching up with each other, Dorian was able to mention offhandedly that Bull had nowhere to go for Satinalia, knowing that Varric usually hosted a large dinner for his various friends.

“Really?” Varric swayed in his seat, he was drinking before Dorian showed up. “Aw, but Tiny’s the best! I’m going to text him right now and invite him to dinner.” He fumbled with his phone and somehow typed out a text message.

There was a minute of silence as Varric stared at his phone, then it vibrated angrily against the wood tabletop, announcing a reply.

"He's coming!" Varric grinned triumphantly.

Dorian just smiled into his drink.

\---

Felix came back with Dorian to Skyhold for two weeks after their ski trip. It meant that Dorian couldn’t bring anyone home, but he didn’t mind in the least. Since Dorian’s couch was too short for either of them to sleep on, he shared his bed with Felix and was happy to curl up with his friend every night. There was nothing sexual about it, but Dorian thought that it was more intimate than what he ever did with his other bed partners. They whispered and laughed under the covers like they did as teenagers when they tried to remain quiet so Felix’s parents wouldn’t hear their secrets.

Felix was also thrilled to see Dorian's neighbor, who he heard so much about during their stay in the Frostbacks. He leaned in close to Dorian after they passed Bull in the hallway and whispered, "You _like_ him!"

Dorian shoved Felix away and tried to hide his blush.

The day before Felix was set to head out back to Tevinter, Dorian saw Iron Bull by the mailboxes and took the time to chat.

“Felix is fucking awesome!” Bull said enthusiastically. 

Apparently they talked a few times in the morning while Bull was heading out to the gym and Felix was heading out to pick up breakfast while Dorian still slept. Dorian was strangely pleased by Bull’s approval and heartily agreed with Bull’s assessment of Felix. 

“He’s a good catch.” Bull either blinked for a long time or tried to wink with his one eye.

“Felix and I?” Dorian shouldn’t have been surprised, it was a common mistake. “No, we’re not romantically involved, he’s my best friend and the son of my former mentor.”

“Oh, uh, sorry, didn’t mean to assume,” Bull sounded sheepish in a way that he didn’t when he mistook Michel as Dorian’s boyfriend. “Well, keep an eye out for a guy like that.”

“I always do.”

\---

"You like him," Felix sang over the phone.

"I'm just being neighborly," Dorian insisted, walking back home after running his errands on a Saturday afternoon. The sun was out and shining, mocking him as it gave off no warmth and the air was filled with a frosty chill. He missed having a car, but tight finances deprived him of the luxury.

"You want to be neighborly in his bed."

"I'm not always looking for sex."

"I know, you want to get into his bed, marry him, and then adopt ten children with him. I saw the way you looked at him and he is totally your type."

"My type? How is he my type? Since when did I bed giant Qunari?"

"He's got muscles and is a big softy, he's your type," Felix sounded overly smug.

Dorian rolled his eyes and said goodbye to Felix as he approached his building. He instantly noticed the police car parked on the curb outside of the building and Dorian held his breath as he went inside.

Dread filled Dorian at the sight of Lieutenant Cullen Rutherford of Skyhold’s police department. The lieutenant was standing in the lobby of his apartment building and looking down at his notepad with a small frown. Not that Dorian disliked him personally, Cullen was actually quite nice, and Dorian was known to dine with the lieutenant and his friendly Dalish wife on a fairly regular basis.

But the presence of Lieutenant Rutherford, in his admittedly smart dark blue uniform, at Dorian’s apartment building meant that one of his neighbors called to complain about Dorian. As a mage from Tevinter, Dorian was blamed for everything from vandalism to hosting blood rituals in his living room. A police lieutenant usually wouldn’t be sent out for such claims, but Dorian’s status as a potentially dangerous mage meant that Cullen was the one sent to investigate.

The visits were less frequent these days, but within the first month Dorian moved into the building Cullen had his own special coffee cup in Dorian’s cupboards and the mage kept the lieutenant’s preferred brand of cookies on hand.

Squaring his shoulders, Dorian gave Cullen a blinding grin. “Lieutenant! It’s been ages since I last saw you! So, what brings you by today? Have I stolen a pie from a windowsill or have I been making blood sacrifices during orgies?”

Cullen smirked as he looked up from his notepad and shook his head. “Neither. I’m not here for you today, though I am headed up to your floor.”

“Really? I’m shocked and jealous,” Dorian placed a hand over his heart. “But I suppose I will have to settle on accompanying you up the stairs. But seriously, how are you, Cullen? I believe I haven’t seen you for nearly three months.”

“It’s been too long. I’ve been well, work’s been good and Ellana and the kids are doing great. How about you, Dorian?”

“Life has treated me with due respect.”

Dorian frowned as Cullen ended up following him down the hall towards his apartment. “Are you sure you’re not here for me, Lieutenant?” Dorian asked. “There is no need to be coy about it.”

“I’m afraid I’m here to speak to the gentleman in the unit next to yours,” Cullen confessed.

“Iron Bull?” Dorian was outraged. “I certainly hope you aren’t following up on a complaint, Bull is a good neighbor. If anything, you should be interrogating those brats on the floor below.”

“Have they been vandalizing your door again?” Cullen sounded concerned.

“Nothing of note,” Dorian murmured. “But Bull is a good man, I hope you aren’t too hard on him.”

“I can’t tell you why I’m here, but you know that I understand your circumstances and people similar to yourself.” Cullen looked wary and stopped outside Iron Bull’s door. “Mr. Bull is lucky to have a neighbor like you Dorian. I only wish that you had someone like that when you first arrived in Ferelden.”

Dorian looked away from the lieutenant.

“I’ll see you later, Dorian. I’ll call you soon for dinner, Ellana and the kids will want to see you.”

“I’d like that and do be kind to Bull, he’s far less brutish than his eyepatch might suggest.”

Waving goodbye to Cullen, Dorian ducked inside his apartment as the lieutenant knocked briskly on Bull’s door and he went straight to his bedroom, flopped down onto his bed and put on his headphones, determined to give Bull some privacy. Though Dorian did itch to know what accusation was filed against Bull, he couldn’t imagine what their neighbors might have to complain about. Bull was universally nice to everyone, on more than one occasion Dorian saw Bull carry groceries for a young mother who lived on the fourth floor and helped bring up the boxes of a small family that moved onto their floor.

No one should have a reason to complain about Bull, Dorian thought, not when he went out of the way to help them. Unlike Dorian, who was a quiet and unobtrusive neighbor, but never tried to be neighborly, especially not with the glares he received upon moving in. His aloofness protected him from open hostility, but made him vulnerable to rumors and whispers.

The first time Dorian met Cullen was because someone’s cat went missing and the neighbor down the hall was certain that Dorian used it as a blood sacrifice. Not matter how kind Cullen was, it was painful to explain that he would never practice blood magic and was in fact a victim of it himself. The cat was found a week later. 

The whole incident, and the ones that followed, reinforced to Dorian that he was an outsider in Ferelden and may never be accepted. 

After about half an hour, Dorian took off his headphones and ventured out into his living room where he could hear Iron Bull saying his goodbyes to Cullen and the click of his neighbor’s door shutting. Dorian stood still and heard Bull’s exhausted sigh through the wall, then a silence that stretched on all afternoon. Dorian laid on the couch, his long legs sticking off the edge, and listened to the quiet in both his apartment and Bull’s until his stomach grumbled hungrily at him, telling him it was dinner time.

Checking his watch, Dorian saw that it was past the time that Bull usually ordered his Saturday dinner and he hadn’t heard a peep from the other unit since Cullen left. Dorian sat around for another half hour and when the silence persisted he grabbed his phone, pulled up the website of the pizza place Bull got delivery from and put in an order for a pizza through their site. He remembered what Bull usually got, a large pizza with extra cheese and pepperoni, and a side of garlic bread.

Dorian felt foolish once he bought the pizza, like he did when he order Bull a cookie cake, and immediately got up and got ready to leave. He hadn’t gone out to a club since Felix left and he was in need of some company.

\---

It quickly became apparent to Dorian that he made a mistake in his choice of bed partner that night. The man, Crassius Servis, struck up a conversation with Dorian at a high end Orlesian club and looked too much like Rilienus for Dorian to resist. He possessed classic Tevinter features, he spoke to Dorian in fluent Tevene that made the mage ache, and Dorian could feel Crassius's firm, compact muscles as they danced.

Unfortunately, Crassius proved to be rougher in between the sheets than Dorian cared for. He clawed too hard at Dorian’s back, his bites were sharp and unforgiving, and his kisses were punishing. When he wasn’t trying to bruise Dorian’s lips, he called Dorian all sorts of names without any kindness. Brat. Slut. Whore.

"Stop," Dorian commanded when Crassius hardly prepared Dorian and was already lining up his bare cock to Dorian's opening.

"Don't be a tease," Crassius snapped, his hand tightening painfully on Dorian's hip and he started to press in.

And then suddenly Crassius was suspended in the air, Dorian's arm stretched out towards him as he all but pinned Crassius to the ceiling with his magic. His eyes and voice were dark and cold as he repeated, "I said stop."

Dorian only allowed him to pull on his pants and gather his clothing before shoving Crassius out into the hallway. He may have used some magic in throwing Crassius out of his home.

“You’re a fucking prude,” Crassius hissed furiously.

Dorian didn’t dignify that with a response, but let lightning crackle over his knuckles in warning and let the door close with a satisfying slam without ever touching it.

Once he locked up, Dorian was surprised when he heard Bull’s door open, followed by a deep, angry grunt from Bull and a strangled noise of fear from Crassius before the quick patter of feet echoed down the hallway. A watery laugh escaped from Dorian as he leaned against the wall that he shared with Bull, pressing his forehead and hand against its cool, smooth surface.

He heard a soft thump against the wall and a murmur he couldn't make out, but he liked to think that Bull was standing there with him, just on the other side.

\---

Dorian was heartened by the fact that Iron Bull seemed to finally hit his stride and found a group of friends in Skyhold. Through the wall, he could hear Bull answer his phone, cheerfully confirm plans, and head out. But Iron Bull still rarely entertained anyone over at his apartment, which was why Dorian was astonished to see a young Tevinter man waiting outside of Iron Bull’s unit with a suitcase at his feet. The young man looked just as startled to see Dorian, but gave him a polite nod as Dorian passed by.

"Are you waiting for Bull?" Dorian asked tentatively and unexpectedly uneasy at seeing an unfamiliar Tevinter man standing there. His father had yet to attempt to kidnap Dorian in Ferelden, but that didn't mean he wouldn't try.

"Oh, uh, yeah," the man answered, not expecting Dorian to talk to him. "I'm Cremisius Aclassi, you can just call me Krem. I'm staying with Bull till after First Day."

The name eased Dorian's worries as the man offered Dorian his hand and Dorian shook it, noting the particularly strong grip. "I'm Dorian Pavus."

"I know," Krem replied as he shook Dorian's hand.

"Oh," Dorian said stupidly and his nervousness returned. Of course, if Krem followed Tevinter politics at all, then he'd know the Pavus name. "I suppose I shouldn't be shocked, scandal about a Magister’s family is difficult to keep out of the headlines."

"Not like that," Krem corrected swiftly. "I mean, I've heard of your family when I used to live back at home, but Bull mentioned you a couple times."

"Oh, really?" That caught Dorian's interest.

"I'm a curious guy, I want to know about my friend’s living situation," Krem shrugged, but looked like he knew he said something wrong.

Dorian let it slide and cleared his throat. "Would you like to come in? Bull usually doesn't come home for another hour and knowing the general paranoia of our other neighbors, they may assume you’re here to steal their children."

Krem looked pleased, though Dorian didn't know if he was happy about the offer or that Dorian knew when Bull came home.

Heavy footsteps interrupted them as Bull came up the stairs, apparently having left work early, and relieved Dorian of having to entertain a stranger he didn't intend to sleep with. Dorian quickly retreated into his home, knowing that Bull and Krem probably wanted catch up and didn't need Dorian as a third wheel. However, he didn't leave before getting an eyeful of Bull's ridiculous tie with pink dragons all over it.

Unfortunately Dorian discovered that while he could happily listen to Bull all day, he couldn’t stand the combination of Bull and his friend. Their laughter carried through the wall, they left the TV on too loud, listened to terrible Free Marcher pop music, and they bickered like an old married couple. He could also hear their murmured whispers, making Dorian feel like he was intruding on more intimate moments. Out of both respect for Bull’s privacy and for his own sanity, Dorian took to wearing his headphones whenever he was home during Krem’s stay with Bull.

And oddly, Dorian found that he didn’t want to know if they were sleeping together.

At least Iron Bull possessed an awareness of how loud they were and was decent enough to feel bad about it.

“Sorry about all the noise,” Bull apologized one afternoon at the mailboxes in the lobby. Even with the chill in the foyer of the building, Bull stood there comfortably in only a thin tank top that stretched ridiculously across his brawny chest. Not that Dorian noticed.

“Don’t worry, other than this blip, you are a model neighbor,” Dorian brushed off the apology. “I’m sure you’ve heard worse coming from my bedroom.”

Bull’s grin showed off his teeth. “Yeah, I have, but I wouldn’t call it bad.” Then he shifted from foot to foot, asking, “Hey, did you have plans for First Day Eve? Krem and I are heading to a coworker’s place for a party, you’re welcome to join us. I've been told that my coworker, Cadash, throws some wild parties.”

The invitation flattered Dorian, he always liked to be included, and he was also hyper aware of the fact that it was the first time either of them tried to make plans to see each other beyond passing each other in the hallway. Dorian almost regretted his own plans. 

“Thank you, while I am acquainted with the pleasure that is Cadash and her notorious parties, I’m afraid I already have plans. My friend Dagna and her girlfriend have their own party and since Dagna is also my boss, I don’t dare snub her.”

Bull laughed, “Well, I don’t want to get you in trouble.”

“Maybe we'll go out another time,” Dorian said quickly.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

First Day came and went, and Dorian was forced to hear the tearful goodbye between Bull and his friend as Krem’s visit came to an end. Dorian should have put his headphones back on, but after a week of constantly listening to music, he figured he could stand Bull and Krem’s inane talking if just for the variety of it. He didn’t look down at them for their audible display of sorrow though, since he was on the verge of sobs when Felix left after his first visit to Skyhold.

There was an odd sense of abandonment every time Felix left. Knowing that Felix was returning home to Tevinter and back to his comfortable life that Dorian used to be a part of made Dorian unreasonably envious and homesick. After Felix’s first visit, his departure only served to remind Dorian that he was trying to create a sense of normalcy in a foreign country and failing at it. Not that it was easy for Felix either, who went back to his life with a gaping Dorian shaped hole in it.

Dorian did some online shopping to get ahead on his Wintersend presents as he listened to Iron Bull and Krem argue over who was going to miss the other the most. As he shopped, Dorian kept thinking about the stupid dragon print ties that Bull always wore.

A few days later, a large box appeared in front of Bull’s apartment, which Dorian spared a glance at before going inside to relax after a long day at work. An hour later, he could hear Bull wrestling the box inside of his apartment and his delighted laugh boomed out once the box was opened.

There was a slight paused and then Dorian could hear Bull on the phone. “Krem, did you send me a giant stuffed animal dragon? It’s great! … Huh, must’ve been one of the guys … Yeah, I now have a giant stuffed dragon … It’s going to sit with me on the couch, I’m going to call it Krem-Puff … Aw, don’t be like that, it’s a great name for a dragon!”

Dorian rolled his eyes as he silently agreed with Krem, it was a terrible name.

\---

That weekend, Dorian brought home a tall, strapping Vashoth named Adaar, who he met at Varric’s sports bar. Adaar managed to be cute for a burly Vashoth, he had faint freckles across his nose, there were endearing dimples on his cheeks when he smiled, and even his horns were none threatening in the way they curled back away from his face. 

The experience wasn’t what Dorian expected, though not in a bad way. From the way Adaar flirted, he expected to be ravished, but Adaar suddenly turned shy once they were in the bedroom and it was clear that Dorian was the Vashoth’s first man and possibly first human. His kisses were sweet, though hesitant, and his touches were gentle to the verge of ticklish. Adaar kept asking Dorian if he was ok, if he was too heavy, if he could touch Dorian in a certain way, and very politely asked if he could fuck Dorian.

Due to Adaar's inexperience, Dorian prepared himself while Adaar watched with half hooded eyes. He was glad that he did, because Adaar was larger than the men Dorian usually slept with and he was filled to the brink. Adaar orgasmed embarrassingly quick, his blush burned his gray skin, and he stumbled through his apology. That he didn’t expect Dorian to be so tight, to be able to take all of him, to clench down like that, to sound and look so good. He then clumsily poured more lube into his hand and grasped Dorian’s flagging erection.

“I want to make you feel good,” Adaar murmured, making Dorian’s breath hitch. His technique was wanting, but in combination with the way Adaar looked at him and his soft whispers of encouragement were enough to bring Dorian over the edge.

Adaar let Dorian clean him off afterwards and was uncomfortable as he said, “I should get going, I have an early morning tomorrow, but this was … this was nice. I liked being with you.”

There was no need for excuses or words at all as they usually came off as insincere and insulting. Off handed comments like _I think you’re really great_ or _I’ll call you_ stung especially harshly. Dorian wanted to explain that to Adaar, but found himself writing down his name and phone number, handing it to Adaar. 

“In case you want to try this again. Or get a cup of coffee.”

About six hours later, too early in the morning for anyone to be contacting Dorian, he received a text from an unknown number.

_Coffee?_

\---

Dorian managed to scare his friends with how happy he was. Dagna worried as Dorian whistled as he handled highly volatile raw lyrium, Sera was creeped out by his large smiles even when she pulled pranks on him, Cullen asked if he was taking something, and Varric changed his nickname to Sparkles due to his new sparkling persona. Even Blackwall took notice of Dorian’s high spirits, noting, “You’ve got a spring in your step, lad.” And Bull gave him a knowing smile as they passed each other in the hallway.

Felix was wary. “You’re dating a Vashoth after you’ve spent all this time longing for your Tal-Vashoth neighbor?” 

“I am not longing for anyone and Adaar is a delight. You’ll love him when you come to meet him,” Dorian answered, stretched out on his bed and not caring who might overhear him talking about the man he was dating.

“Are you sure about this, Dorian?”

“Of course,” Dorian maintained, “I adore him to little pieces and more importantly, he has the fine taste to adore me.”

Felix’s sigh was loud and telling. “Just … Just don’t give your heart away because someone asked you out.”

“I’m not a simpleton, Felix, I guard myself with the utmost care,” Dorian responded flippantly, though they both knew history contradicted his declaration.

Disregarding Felix’s misgivings, life became a cheerful cycle of work, come home, text with Adaar, hang out with Adaar, and pine over when he’d see Adaar again.

Despite having already slept with each other, they were taking it slow physically, and Dorian was willing to take a temporary vow of celibacy to have Adaar court him. Dorian did miss having sex, but he loved holding hands, the fluttering kisses on the corner of his mouth, and the shy looks Adaar gave him. Dorian loved how he needed to stand on his toes to kiss Adaar and the easy way that Adaar buried his face into Dorian’s hair.

On nights when Dorian might have gone to clubs, he spent them with Adaar, going out to dinner, snuggling on the couch to watch movies, and going to classy bars for a drink. One time Adaar managed to even convince Dorian to go ice skating at the outdoor rink in the downtown area. It was terribly cold, but he was pleased to have Adaar warm his hands in his own large, gray ones and see the rosy glow on Adaar’s face.

Adaar was open, sweet, and funny, and Dorian never got tired of being with him. Adaar wasn’t much of a reader and he didn’t know anything about magic, but he seemed content to listen to Dorian prattle on about books and the research he was working on with Dagna. And Dorian wasn’t much of a sportsman, but he happily listened to Adaar talk about his indoor soccer team that he formed with his coworkers and the excitement of his favorite professional football team being in the playoffs.

It was refreshing to be with someone so openly and to be with the same person day after day. To no longer be afraid of discovery, of being dragged away suddenly and hidden like something to be ashamed of. Dorian’s relationship with Adaar represented everything that Dorian dreamed of when he came south. That although Ferelden may never truly feel like home, he could at least date and be with men however he pleased and that he could love a man without repercussions.

He wasn’t in love with Adaar, he knew that much, but he could see himself falling for Adaar very soon.

Then Wintersend rolled around. Adaar left for the Free Marches where his parents lived and Dorian stayed in town to celebrate the holiday with Sera and Dagna, who hosted a large party for Wintersend. And Bull left to go visit Krem and other friends for a few days, but not before exchanging Wintersend cards with Dorian and receiving a bottle of maraas-lok from an unknown sender.

“Probably the same person who sent me the stuffed dragon,” Bull commented offhandedly to Dorian when he tore open the package in the hallway and held up the deadly bottle of alcohol. “Looks like the real stuff too, not that imitation crap southerners make.”

“It’s a useful gift. If you don’t like drinking it, then you can use it for bleach,” Dorian replied casually. He was overjoyed by the thrilled look Bull had as he held the bottle.

After the holiday, Dorian counted down the days to Adaar's scheduled returned. They didn’t text as much when Adaar was away, since Adaar was busy with his family and Dorian was busy with avoiding his own family’s attempts to contact him. The day of Adaar’s return passed and Dorian still didn’t receive a text from him.

Figuring that Adaar was probably tired from travel, Dorian waited a couple of days before he sent a message and held his breath in anticipation. It took another two days for a response, but it was positive. Adaar missed him and was looking forward to having dinner with him that weekend. They made plans to eat in, Dorian wasn’t much of a cook, but he did make one lamb curry dish really well and he was glad to open the bottle of wine that Felix sent him for Wintersend to share.

Adaar visited Dorian’s apartment several times before, but Dorian launched into a cleaning frenzy before Adaar came over. He genuinely wanted to do this right and host a romantic dinner of a home cooked meal with his boyfriend, the word still sending chills down his spine. Back in Tevinter, he never had the chance, and he didn't try with Fereldan men, not after his embarrassing rejections when he first moved to Skyhold. Now Dorian was determined to do everything perfectly.

The only thing that was stopping him from creating a perfect date was that the small, wooden table that was tucked into the cramped dining space looked woefully bare and utilitarian, causing Dorian to run over to Bull’s apartment to ask if he had a tablecloth or vase. Bull disappeared into his apartment, reemerging with a small crystal vase with a single red rose in it and an encouraging smile. Much to Dorian’s relief, the vase and a candle he found made the table look downright romantic. 

It gave Dorian a sense of hope that he hadn’t felt since before he was literally dragged from Rilienus’s bed years ago.

“This is really good, you’re a better cook than you claim,” Adaar complemented Dorian’s skills as they ate dinner.

“While I excel at many things, I admit that I can only really make this one dish,” Dorian acknowledged, but beamed under the praise.

Adaar’s grin was kind. “It’s still really good.”

Full of food and good wine, they moved from Dorian’s tiny table to the couch. Adaar was supposed to bring a movie, but instead of turning on the TV, Adaar placed his hand on Dorian’s knee. The heat of his palm bled through Dorian’s jeans and he wondered if Adaar wanted to give sex another try. He really hoped that was the case.

“Dorian, I want you to know that I really enjoy hanging out with you.”

Oh.

“You’re a really good friend.”

Oh no.

He didn’t quite hear the rest. Something about staying friends, about really liking Dorian, but that Adaar didn’t feel as strongly as Dorian did, and that he’d always remember their time together fondly.

“Of course we’ll remain friends,” Dorian’s smile was radiant and convincing. “I would never be so cruel as to deprive you of my friendship.”

Adaar was comforted. “Thank you for understanding.”

Adaar didn’t linger much longer afterwards and it took everything in Dorian not to slam the door behind of him.

\---

That night, Dorian went to bed alone and allowed himself to have a good cry, not caring if Bull could hear him on the other side of the wall.

\---

By the time Dorian got to his apartment building, he was exhausted and hungry. He stopped at his favorite Tevene restaurant on his way home to treat himself to some takeout to eat in front of his TV, he needed it at the end of the week. 

The entire week he put up with Dagna trying to cheer him up, Sera raving about what an ass Adaar was, and Felix threatening Adaar’s life in a series of emails, text messages, and phone calls. He was looking forward to a little peace during the weekend to mope over his breakup, despite Sera trying to persuade him to go out with her and Dagna to drink his sorrows away.

At least he could honestly say that Adaar dumping him was less painful than having his father’s men kidnap him from Rilienus’s penthouse. If Dorian could survive the months of house arrest that followed and his father’s attempts to change him, then he could get over Adaar. That was little comfort though, his heart was still broken and unshakable feelings of inadequacy crept up in Dorian, making him reexamine every interaction with Adaar.

Maybe Adaar was frightened by Dorian’s open usage and talk of magic. Adaar may have thought that they had nothing common. Perhaps he found Dorian’s mannerisms and taste in fine things too snooty. Adaar might have realized that he preferred being with women over men. Or Adaar simply went home and understood that he could never bring a Tevinter mage to meet his parents.

His gloomy thoughts were interrupted when he noticed Iron Bull coming into the building and he was immediately blinded by Bull’s bright blue tie with pink nugs. Dorian pointedly avoided Bull all week. Even if Bull somehow missed Dorian’s humiliating breakup, there was no way he didn’t hear Dorian sobbing all night, or him calling Felix the following day, crying so much it was a miracle that his phone didn’t have water damage. Bull surely wouldn’t be so crass to ask about Adaar, but Dorian didn’t think he could handle Bull’s looks of pity.

There was a part of Dorian that wanted to flee up the stairs before Bull noticed him, but he was grounded by Iron Bull’s own tired expression. He stopped in the lobby and smiled at his neighbor, who perked up at the sight of Dorian.

“How was your week?” Dorian asked as they climbed the stairs up to their floor.

“Ugh,” Bull grunted and rubbed his face with his large hand, “it’s been shit.”

“Really? Is Varric working you that hard?”

Bull shook his head. “We just found out that someone in Kirkwall is publishing some unauthorized books under Varric's name and we’ve been dealing with it all week. I was ready for this week to be over on Tuesday.”

Dorian sympathized, there were countless times when he climbed those very stairs on his own, fuming over the awful week he had with only the emptiness of his own apartment to look forward to. A part of him always wondered how he might have reacted to a sliver of kindness from one of his neighbors and inexplicably he asked Bull to join him for dinner as they approached their units.

“The lady who runs the restaurant always gives me extra food and dessert, I can never eat it all,” Dorian hurriedly explained and held up his bag of takeout as if to prove his point.

“You get free food from a lady?” Bull lifted his eyebrow with a smirk.

Dorian rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically. “She’s old enough to be my mother and thinks I’m not eating enough. So, would you like to join me?”

The smile on Bull’s face widened. “Yeah, I’d really like that. Let me go change and I’ll come over.”

“I’ll leave the door unlocked.”

Dorian stepped into his apartment and was glad that he kept it clean that week. He left the food on the coffee table and went into his room to change out of his work clothes, threw on a long sleeve shirt and jeans, and gave himself a look over in the floor length mirror. He looked casual, but the shirt clung nicely to his form and his jeans showed off his ass well. Satisfied, Dorian went into the kitchen to grab plates, utensils, and napkins.

When the door opened, Dorian called out, “We’ll eat in the living room. What would you like to drink? A beer? Glass of wine?”

“Beer would be great.”

Dorian brought out two Fereldan ales and his heart suddenly skipped a beat at the sight of Bull in his apartment. Iron Bull also dressed casually, but his wide neck shirt was stretched so tightly across his chest that Dorian thought it might tear to shreds if he flexed his muscles. It left Dorian's mouth dry.

They settled on the couch to eat dinner and Dorian let Iron Bull vent about his week, glad to hear someone else's problems rather than being forced to dwell on his own.

“Then the guy from the publishing company in Kirkwall has the fucking nerve to try to spin this and say that the publicity is a good thing! He talked to me like I’m some idiot oxman. I took down his information to pass onto Varric's private detective, Leliana, to look into. I hope she finds something good on that asshole,” Bull ranted, downing his second beer. 

"Ah, blackmail, how quaint,” Dorian sighed. “Back at home, we wouldn't bother with evidence and would just make something up to destroy him."

“Augh, I’m sure you don’t need to hear me go on about this all night.”

“I don’t mind,” Dorian insisted. "You do have a lovely ranting voice."

Bull smirked, “Nah, I need to take my mind off of it. Anyway, why don’t you tell me about what you do? You research magical shit, right?”

A chuckle escaped Dorian’s lips. “Yes and ‘magical shit’ is the technical term.”

Dorian told him about working with Dagna and then they moved onto talking about living in Ferelden as an outsider, their mutual immigration caseworker, Josephine, and a million other inconsequential things as they ate dinner. Speaking to Bull made Dorian forget about Adaar instantly and the sting of rejection was soothed by Bull’s attention and small touches. Bull had a habit of brushing his knee against Dorian’s, touching Dorian’s shoulder or arm, and at one point, rather boldly, leaned in close to get an eyelash from the corner of Dorian’s eye.

The grin Bull gave Dorian as he left was soft and warm. “Thanks for inviting me to dinner, I needed this.”

“So did I. As I believe I have mentioned to you before, misery does love company,” Dorian replied with a lopsided smile, the closest he got to bringing up his breakup all night. Honestly, he didn’t think of Adaar the entire time he was with Bull. The brief thought of Adaar reminded Dorian of something. “Oh! I still have your vase.”

At some point he moved the vase from the dining table to a bookshelf in the living room, liking how it looked and how it made him think of Bull. The rose was a little worse for wear, it was still a vibrant red, but the edges of the petals were darkened and wilting.

“Keep it. It looks good in here,” Bull said with a small smile. “We should do this again soon. Maybe next weekend? I’ll bring over dinner and a new flower.”

Dorian tentatively returned the smile and a tiny bit of hope curled in his stomach. 

\---

Dorian went to bed not long after Bull left his apartment. It was late, but Dorian was restless and horny, realizing that he hadn’t slept with anyone since Adaar and while there was still time to go to a club or bar, he didn’t want to pick someone up to bring home. Instead he let his hand wander down and sought his pleasure on his own.

Even though Dorian was loud when he had sex, reveling in that freedom, he was usually quiet when he masturbated. This time though, Dorian allowed himself to be vocal, tipping his head back into the pillows as he groaned as he slowly fucked into his fist. Spreading his legs and lifting his hips, Dorian pressed a slicked finger against his entrance, thinking about what it might feel like to have a much thicker finger breach his hole.

A half cry came from his throat as he pumped his erection faster and finally slid his finger inside himself, hitting his prostate. Dorian pictured a scarred chest, rough but gentle hands, a kind face, and a dark eye watching him. He panted loudly, murmuring all sorts of things to the Maker, and didn’t try to muffle his moan as he spilled over his fist and he clenched around his finger.

Dorian slumped down in the bed, catching his breath when he heard a soft groan on the other side of the wall. He smiled contently.

“Good night, Bull,” he said lightly.

\---

“I’m glad you got over Adaar so quickly, I didn’t approve of him,” Felix said cheerfully over the phone. 

“You never even met him!” Dorian protested.

"Minor details. Anyway, I’m happy to hear that you’ve finally moved onto dating Bull. Not that I'm surprised."

“It’s nothing, we’re just having dinner.”

“Uh-huh. Just a romantic dinner alone in your apartment where you can drag him into your room and ride him like a pony,” Felix said just a bit too loudly.

“I have no idea why I even talk to you,” Dorian replied blithely, looking around to make sure no one around him on the sidewalk overheard Felix.

“Because you love me.”

“Dearly. Now, I’ve got to go."

“Have fun on your date.”

Something inside of Dorian fluttered pleasantly at the idea that having dinner with Iron Bull was a date.

That night Bull brought over containers filled with Rivian spicy noodles and fish cakes and a red carnation to put into the vase. They talked again and Dorian let Bull slide in his light touches, this time there was a bit of chocolate from dessert that was apparently on the corner of Dorian’s mouth that Bull carefully wiped off. 

The following weekend they shared a large pizza and Bull brought over a white and pink lily. Bull claimed there were a few stray hairs on back of Dorian’s neck, which he brushed off casually with the slow swipe of his thumb. 

And the next week Bull brought over rich butter soaked Orlesian food and a bloom of Crystal Grace. He rubbed Dorian’s shoulders because he thought Dorian looked tense. Dorian was far from tense, but he allowed it anyway.

The more time Dorian spent with Bull, the more utterly charmed he was by him and Dorian sort of forgot that he was supposed to be moping about Adaar. They were engrossed in getting to know each other and didn’t bother to turn on the TV or put in a movie whenever they had dinner together. Dorian thought he knew a lot about Bull just from what he could overhear, but he found there were a lot of things that were a mystery to him.

Bull lost his eye saving his friend Krem. He was in fact Tal-Vashoth and was also in the country under political asylum, but was living in the Free Marches and in Orlais before coming to Ferelden. He was a Seheron veteran and was still best friends a former Tevinter soldier. He hoped to work at the youth center that Varric’s friend Hawke set up, because he liked working with children.

And that he asked Dorian to come out with him for First Day Eve so he’d have an excuse to kiss Dorian.

“Really?” Dorian asked after swallowing a mouthful of Antivan saffron rice. “You must hear me in my bedroom all the time, you need no other excuse than to knock on my door and ask.”

Bull grunted. “I wanted it to be romantic. Krem thought it was a good idea.”

That truly surprised Dorian.

“You make it hard on a guy, you know?” Bull started. “It’s bad enough that you’re so damn pretty, but then you do things like ordering me food, telling Varric that I'd be on my own for the holiday, sending me gifts, and fuck knows what else. You're not real subtle on the whole courtship thing."

Dorian shifted uncomfortably. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, but one might say the same about you.”

“Well, if it wasn’t you, then it was someone else who uniquely understood what I was going through. What it’s like to move suddenly, to be alone in a different country and away from all of your friends. And some other guy named Dorian Pavus who sends cookie cakes to my place on my birthday. By the way, that cookie place forgot to leave the name off of the receipt.”

Covering his face with his hands, Dorian moaned loudly in mortification. Large hands enclosed his own and gently pulled them away from Dorian’s face. Bull stared at Dorian with naked affection in his eye and leaned in slowly, giving Dorian enough time to pull away if he wanted.

Dorian didn’t pull away, letting Bull press his lips against his own and opened his mouth when a tongue curiously sought entrance. It was clumsy at first, it took a few seconds to position themselves comfortably, their noses bumped against each other, and Dorian wished he put in his contacts because his glasses kept smashing up on his face. But Bull turned out to be a fantastic kisser and left Dorian half hard when he finally pulled away.

“Sorry that wasn’t as romantic as you deserve,” Bull murmured, his palm cupping Dorian’s cheek.

“Don’t apologize, not for that.” Dorian sounded too breathless from just one kiss.

“You’ve been giving me what I needed all this time, now let me give you what you need.”

“I have no idea what that means, but yes, please do.”

\---

Bull took Dorian to bed that night.

“You have no idea what you’ve been doing to me all these months, I could hear everything you did,” Bull groaned as he divested Dorian of his clothing and carefully took off Dorian’s glasses. “It was hot, don’t doubt that, but those assholes never gave you what you needed.”

“And you’re going to give me what I need?” Dorian smirked, his hands sliding under Bull’s shirt.

“Yeah, I am.” Bull’s grin was slow and hungry. “If you need me to stop, tell me. If you need me stop with no questions asked, say katoh.”

“A watchword? Well, this will be interesting.”

According to Bull, what Dorian needed was orgasms, a lot of them.

Dorian came in Bull’s grip, in his ridiculously large hand was tight, warm, and slickened with lube, while sitting on Bull's lap, his back against a solid chest and soft stomach. "I want you to watch," Bull's breath was hot in his ear as his strokes quickened, "I want you to see yourself come." Dorian wailed as he did as he was told.

Then he came in Bull’s hot mouth as he was laid out on the bed and Bull gently sucked Dorian’s cock, his tongue leisurely licking up the shaft and his fingers fondling Dorian’s balls. "One day I'm going to taste you," Bull promised, carefully removing the condom from Dorian's softening penis. "I'm going to get on my knees for you, have you fuck my face, and I'm going to swallow you down." Dorian wanted that very much.

And he came again, though rather weakly, with three of Bull’s thick fingers thrusting inside of him, stretching him, teasing him, taking him to his very limit. He was straddling Bull’s lap, facing him, clinging desperately onto broad shoulders and whining into Bull’s neck as he fucked Dorian with fingers that were larger than most of the men Dorian bedded in the past. His poor cock was trapped between their bodies, too sensitive to touch, but was rubbed mercilessly against Bull’s heated skin in time with the slow thrusts of Bull’s fingers. The watchword that Bull gave him was on the tip of his tongue, but he wasn’t there yet, he was sure of it.

"Look at how prettily you take me in," Bull rumbled with a sort of pride and that was enough to make Dorian’s release splatter onto his stomach.

"I want you inside of me," Dorian demanded feebly as he slumped boneless against Bull. He was totally relaxed and sated that he thought he might be able to take all of Bull, who was more endowed than even Adaar.

Thick fingers slowly dragged out of Dorian, tracing around his slackened rim before leaving him completely. "We'll work up to it later, sweetheart," Bull said, his voice rough with lust. "Don't want to accidentally hurt you."

The entire time, Bull’s own impressive erection remained untouched, heavy between his legs and teasing Dorian by rubbing it against him. Dorian reached for it often, but Bull, far too pleased with himself, always diverted Dorian’s attention. Once Bull was satisfied that Dorian was wrung out, Bull finally chased his own orgasm, thrusting between Dorian’s oiled and clenched thighs. The largeness of Bull's cock between his legs made Dorian suddenly glad that Bull insisted that they wait to fuck and it made his chest squeeze in delicious anticipation of how full Bull would make him. 

“You should have used my mouth, I do some very wonderful things with my tongue,” Dorian pointed out after the fact, his thighs sticky with Bull's seed.

“I will, next time.” Bull kissed Dorian's lips before going back to cleaning the mage up with a warm washcloth.

Dorian just hummed with approval before drifting off to sleep, barely aware of the mattress dipping down as a warm weight settled in next to him.

\---

Dorian woke up to Bull getting out of the bed ridiculously early in the morning. He hid his face in his pillow, casual was what Dorian was used to and he shouldn't have expected Iron Bull to stay, but it didn't prevent the bite of disappointment that swelled in him. A soft kiss was dropped on his temple and Dorian fell back asleep as the bedroom door clicked shut. 

The sound of pans clanking in his kitchen and the smell of food woke Dorian back up half an hour later. Curious as to what was going on, Dorian got out of bed and saw that all of Bull's clothes, with the exception of his boxers, were still lying about on the floor. Dorian's own clothing seemed to have made it into his hamper. Picking up Bull's T-shirt, Dorian slipped it on, put on his glasses, and made his way to the kitchen to the sight of Bull cooking breakfast in just his boxers.

"Morning!" Bull greeted him as Dorian approached the kitchen. "Sorry if I woke you up, I wanted to bring this to you in bed." His eye widened when he saw what Dorian was wearing. "Shit, you look hot."

Dorian doubted that very much. His hair and mustache were a mess and his makeup was smudged from the night before, but Bull looked at him like he wanted to eat Dorian for breakfast instead of whatever he was making.

"What are you making?" Dorian asked, leaning against the counter and peeking at the pan.

"Omelets, I make great omelets. I hope you like them."

"I do."

"Good. I make better pancakes, but you don't have any flour and I didn't want to run to my apartment in my shorts."

"I suppose I'll have to pick some up for next time."

Bull absolutely beamed. 

Dorian put on a pot of coffee, cleared off his little dining table and they sat down for breakfast.

"I've been thinking about this for a long time, about you in general," Bull admitted. "All those things you did for me, I couldn't stop thinking about it."

"Honestly, you don't have to bring it up," Dorian interrupted hastily. "It's hardly worth mentioning."

Bull's gaze was unbearably soft as he said, "It’s just nice knowing that someone cares about what I’m going through."

A flush heated Dorian's cheeks and he forced himself to take a drink of coffee to hide the sudden sting in his eyes.

Then, with nervousness Dorian never saw in his neighbor before, Bull said, "Hey, so, I was wondering if you wanted to go catch a movie with me tomorrow after work, the one about the first Inquisition that you were talking about. We could get dinner afterwards."

There was a vulnerability that Bull was displaying that Dorian was well acquainted with. It wasn’t just going out on a limb to ask someone out, but trying to find someone to help ease the loneliness and could make the homesickness bearable. Trying to find someone who you could make a life with in a strange country.

There were so many times when others denied Dorian that comfort, who only wanted to take their pleasure from Dorian’s body and leave. For two years, he managed to make that be just enough to get by, but Dorian didn’t want that anymore. He didn’t want that for himself and he didn’t want that for Bull. Neither of them should have to be alone anymore.

Reaching out, Dorian laid his hand over Bull's on the table, a small smile curling on his lips. "I'd love to."


End file.
